Je T'aime.

XXI. Nineteen

The Christmas season at court was so exhausting that even days after the holiday, the halls of the palace were nearly silent. The snow that had fallen on Nikolas-Nacht had melted into nothingness, though a dry chill still left the air feeling empty and lifeless.

But with the arriving new year, Hofburg began to wake from it's eggnog-induced slumber. It was New Year's Eve, we all suddenly remembered- a time for new beginnings as we brushed off our browning evergreens.

And New Year's Eve, I remembered, was Isabella's birthday.

Birthdays were not celebrated too heavily at the Austrian court- one's name day in accordance to their assigned saint was more to my mother's taste. Though she was the Holy Roman Empress, she would have none of the old Pagan policies of the actual empire of Rome. But the more Roman one got, rather than Germanic, the more birthdays were treasured. And certainly the most Roman nations were Spain and Italy, regions of Isabella's heritage.

In the chilled afternoon of December 31st, I was led into the salon of Isabella's apartments by Eleanore. The apartments of the Crown Prince were one of the biggest in the palace, second only to those of my mother. Unlike mine, Joseph's place had an area for him to convey political meetings. As he came of age, more and more government was to be handed to him, like a Prime Minister of sorts. But the place also had a domestic side for the Princess, a salon cast in red, white, and gold that was suitable for the heir and the bringer of heirs.

After an affirmative message to my knock, I opened the door, revealing Isabella on a chaise lounge by the fire, dedicatedly working on her needlework. She turned over her shoulder to meet my gaze, her wide chocolate eyes brightening. "Christina. How delighted I am to see you."

I crossed the Turkish rug that was displayed on the floor, trying to awkwardly hide the paper-wrapped canvas behind my panniers. I leaned it against the chaise and came to sit next to her. "Oh, it's quite nice by the fire. Very cozy."

"Yes, yes," Isabella replied. "I've been doing embroidery for the greater part of two hours," she motioned to the cloth resting on the arm of the red and gold patterned chaise, a needle equipped with evergreen thread pierced into the edge of the work. "Rather tedious, I think, but it helps pass the time."

"You'd rather be cooped up in your apartments on your birthday?"

Isabella turned to me with a glowing smile. "You knew?"

"Of course I knew. Happy birthday." I presented Isabella with her gift, placing it in her lap.

"First the tiara, and now this! You Austrians are much too kind!" Isabella exclaimed as she gently undid the paper, taking care not to rip and discard it like anyone else would. She pulled off a section of paper, revealing the glimmering calf-like eyes of the Princess of Parma. Isabella gasped and clasped one hand over her mouth while the other worked at the paper. "Christina..." she said muffled behind her hand as she revealed the entire portrait. "Did you paint this?"

"I did," I replied.

Isabella held up the portrait, balancing it on her knee. As she admired it, I don't think I could have ever been more proud of a painting that I had done. Her face in brushstroke was nearly as beautiful as it was in life. Her round, slightly upturned nose was accompanied by a round face structure and those mesmerizing brown eyes. Her cheeks were made rosy with a delicate rouge, and her lips were a blush cupid's-bow. On her neck she wore a white lace ruff, and below was a court gown of blue velvet and white lace. Her hair was powdered, though her eyebrows showed its natural brunette hue. In her hair was a collection of small blue ribbons and feathers, alongside a Spanish-style cap with black lace lappets, one behind her and one cascading over her shoulder. In the left hand corner, boldly in the last of my gold paint, I wrote her name. Princess Isabella of Parma-Austria. In the lower right in nondescript gray, I wrote by Maria Christina of Habsburg-Lorraine.

Isabella sat the portrait down on the table before her and turned to me, wrapping her arms over my shoulders. "Thank you so much," she exclaimed as she squeezed me tight, her weight nearly throwing me off of the chaise. "I've never received something so beautiful and thoughtful."

I hugged her back, but it was like my body moved without the control of my brain. With her touch my mind just froze. I never expected her to be this happy with something that I had done on a whim. "Oh, it's nothing. I just had a few extra colors and I thought I would-"

Isabella released herself from my embrace and smiled at me. "Nonsense. I will have this hung up at once. Maybe over there?" She pointed to an empty space near the door. "Or there, by the window? Or maybe in the bedroom, over Joseph's desk. That bedroom's wonderful."